The next morning, I woke up to a text from Brett.
I’m going to this today. Want to join me?
The link that followed took me to an informational seminar at the Jefferson Market Library hosted by the Dysautonomia Relief Foundation.
I closed my eyes without responding, phone still in my hand and a smile on my face. It might have been good business for him to seek out more information on his own, but I had a feeling his interests were more about spending time with me. Which was sweet. He was definitely a man who would be on my radar if we weren’t working together.
And if my radar wasn’t completely monopolized with Scott.
I groaned remembering. Maybe it was more of a moan. A groan-moan, one that I repeated when I stretched and felt the reminder of yesterday’s activities between my legs.
As bad of an idea as it was, staying in bed and thinking about it all day long sounded like a good agenda. I already knew plenty about the DRF. I didn’t need a seminar. Besides, I didn’t want to send the wrong message to Brett by accepting the invitation.
I forced myself to sit up and type out a reply. Halfway through the message, I had second thoughts. What if Brett talked to the presenters? What if he mentioned me? What if he mentioned the possible sponsorship?
While it was most likely that whoever was sent to speak wouldn’t know anything about Conscience Connect or the contract, there was still a chance that they did. A chance that they knew the contract was with Kendra. A chance they knew that Tess Turani was merely her assistant.
I flicked back to the link to check the time of the seminar before shooting a reply to Brett.
Meet you there.
Then I jumped out of bed and hopped in the shower. I had a little over an hour to get ready and make it to the Flatiron District. If I was going to be on time, I had to move at warp speed.
“I don’t think I learned a single thing today that you hadn’t already gone over yesterday,” Brett said as we walked out of the library three hours later.
“That’s not true,” I laughed. He was being polite. The seminar had been quite thorough, including talks from two patients who suffered from different forms of dysautonomia.
Turned out I needn’t have worried about the presenters. Not only were they volunteers who probably had no clue about the foundation seeking sponsorship, Brett also had no interest in speaking to them.
Of course, he may have if I wasn’t with him. Or he might not have gone to the seminar at all, and even if he felt like he hadn’t walked away with any new information, Brett seemed to be more devoted to the cause now. Either way, it wasn’t a wasted trip on my part.
“Okay, I did learn one thing.” He stopped walking and turned to me. “I learned that you are very expressive when you’re listening to someone speak about something you care about.”
My face went warm. I’d been told that before, told that I’d often animate along with the speaker. It was completely unconscious on my part, and I struggled not to be embarrassed by it.
“Was I completely distracting?”
He gave me a smile that told me the distraction had been welcome. “I’m sure no one noticed but me. And possibly that grumpy man sitting behind us.”
“He was grumpy, wasn’t he? I could feel his frown even when I wasn’t looking at him.”
We laughed about it and about whatever Brett said in reply, which I missed because a sudden unbidden memory of Scott flashed in my head, stealing my attention, so I just chuckled when Brett did as if I’d heard the joke.
How dumb was I to be fantasizing about the hot player who probably hadn’t thought twice about me since I’d left his office when a perfectly nice, handsome, sweet man was standing right in front of me? A man who was clearly interested.
When our laughter faded away, his gaze remained. “I don’t know about you, but listening to people talk about medical conditions seems to have worked up an appetite.”
A decent woman would have kindly declined. He was too good of a person to lead on.
But I was still thinking inappropriate thoughts about a man that I had no business thinking about, and a quick bite with Brett might be just the opportunity to discover more about his cousin.
I scanned our surroundings and spotted a street vendor. “I wouldn’t mind grabbing a hot dog. Nice enough day; we can sit out here and eat it on the library grounds.”
His expression was mixed, as though he was glad for more time with me but disappointed that I hadn’t suggested something sit-down. Whether he took it as a sign that I wasn’t into him or that I was committed to maintaining a professional relationship for the time being, I didn’t know.
Either way, he seemed to realize he should take what he got. “Sounds perfect to me.”
Half an hour later, we’d each polished off a full-length chili dog and shared a chocolate chip cookie. Brett was still working on a bag of chips while I nursed a bottled iced tea, and though we’d chatted about everything from SyFi’s The Expanse to the best kinds of dogs to have as pets, I hadn’t yet found a way to bring up what I really wanted to know.
Then, he did it for me. “Silvia said you got Scott on board.”
My stomach tightened. This was not quite the way I’d hoped he’d come up. I was doing my best not to think about the predicament I’d gotten myself in when I’d chosen to bang the VP instead of presenting him with the team’s decision.
Still, I couldn’t hide from the facts.
I took another swig of my drink while I considered my response. I didn’t want to lie to Brett. But my whole relationship with SIC was a lie, so it was kind of too late for that now.
“There’s still a little bit I need to iron out with him.” Downplayed, but honest. “I have a meeting with him on Monday before our lunch.”
Now I just had to hope that Brett wouldn’t bring it up to Scott before I had the chance.
“That’s great. On the one hand, I’m surprised that you were able to sell him so quickly. On the other, it’s hard not to buy when you’re the one selling.”
I looked away so he wouldn’t see my eye roll. That was a player line if I’d ever heard one. Maybe I didn’t give Brett enough credit.
Once that thought had passed, I worried about what he’d said for a different reason. “I hope you aren’t suggesting that he’d only sign on because...well.” I wasn’t sure how to frame it.
“Because you’re a beautiful woman? I have no doubt that Scott is influenced by pretty ladies, but I’m also positive that he would never sign onto something that he didn’t believe in. I didn’t mean to imply anything except that you know what you’re doing. And Scott needs to get this sponsorship rolling. He’s getting pressure from the big guy. As you probably already know, the company is involved right now in some legal battles about one of the pipelines, and Henry is hoping that launching the support of a foundation will divert public attention.”
It was the way with a lot of the companies that Kendra matched with charitable organizations. Sometimes when she got wind of bad PR, that was exactly when she’d swoop in and introduce the idea of sponsorship.
Not for the first time, I wondered why it was that she hadn’t hit up SIC herself.
But I was more curious about other things. “Henry. That’s Scott’s dad?”
“Right. He’s the executive chairman. Co-chairman, technically. With his brother.” Brett paused to study me. “Your expression says you still haven’t googled who’s who at SIC.”
“That’s not true. I did. I just didn’t google who’s who in the Sebastian family.” The only reason I’d been able to resist was because I knew a thorough search would have delivered images of all the women Scott had ever been photographed with. I was already struggling with confidence. I didn’t need to obsess about supermodels and elite royalty and whomever else he undoubtedly had dated/hung out with/banged.
“Well, then let me give you a lesson.” Brett gathered our trash and cleared a space on the ground between us. Then, using a plastic fork, h
e drew a mark in the dirt. “Irving Sebastian founded Sebastian Industrial Corp when he was a wee lad. He’s ninety-five now, so it was a long time ago. Built the whole empire from scratch. Made lots and lots of money, obviously. Kept the stock private, and his wife is dead, so it’s mostly divided among his children.”
Brett drew five lines below the first. “Henry is the oldest. Then Reynard, Samuel, August, and Arthur. Henry and Reynard run SIC together. Arthur is on the board. Samuel and August moved over to Sebastian News Corp when the company split in the nineties.”
“All his children were boys?”
“Didn’t you know? Irving Sebastian was so rich, he could even influence genetics.” He was joking, but I could hear the hint of bitterness. “In all seriousness, the abundance of boys is creepy. It continued to the next branch of the family tree. Henry, for example.” He drew five more lines below one of the lines on the level above. “Besides Scott, he has Miles, Cole, and Zach. They stopped when they had Sydney. She gets doted on.”
Four older brothers? “Yeah. I can imagine.”
Brett went on to fill in all the branches on the tree, explaining who did what and who should be avoided (both Reynard’s sons) and who he liked (August’s line). About half of all the descendants had some sort of job with SIC or the News Corp.
“I almost ended up at the News Corp myself,” he said at one point. “Because I’d much rather work for Samuel and August, but I just wasn’t interested in the work. I don’t have to deal with Henry or Reynard personally anyway. And Scott can be hardheaded, but he’s really not that bad.”
Scott and the term hardheaded threatened to take my mind places it shouldn’t go. I shook off the dirty thoughts and thought instead about the severe-looking man who’d passed me as I’d left Scott’s office. “I saw Henry yesterday. Briefly. He did seem formidable, even at a glance.”
Brett shrugged. “He’s the man in charge of it all. I suppose that’s what it takes to work in that position. I sure wouldn’t want that pressure. I definitely wouldn’t want to be one of his sons.”
I looked over the family tree he’d diagrammed in the dirt and frowned. “Wait. Where do you fit into all of this?”
“Ah, yes. The Lessers.” He drew another line next to Irving at the top. “My grandma is Ida, Irving’s little sister. She got pregnant out of wedlock, total embarrassment in those days. But Irving was protective and family-oriented, so he made sure to take care of her and kept the scandal hush-hush. She kept the Sebastian name. All that stirred lots of rumors, naturally. People saying that Irving was the father.” Brett shuddered at the idea. “It’s a fun piece of gossip, but not true. I think Grandma actually got knocked up by a grifter, though that’s never been confirmed.
“Anyway, she had twins, Luke and Luis. Luke is my dad.” He drew more lines on the tree. “All of us over here are The Lessers. We’re well off. Irving made sure both my dad and my uncle have jobs. We’ll get an inheritance when Irving dies. Nothing like what the Greater Sebastians live with.”
He put up a hand as if to emphasize his next point. “I’m not complaining. At all. It’s easy to get seduced by all that the Greaters have in terms of luxury, but I’ve seen firsthand what all that money can do to people. They’re too hardened. Too spoiled. Too difficult to get close to. They exist in their own world, and even when you think you’ve been invited in, you never really are.”
He didn’t mean it as a warning, but I knew if I were smart, I’d take it as one.
So why was I intrigued with Scott Sebastian more now than ever?
I’d just curled up on Kendra’s sofa, remote in hand, when my phone rang. It was Saturday night, so of course I wasn’t surprised to see the caller ID say RESTRICTED. Leave it to Kendra to have no regard for personal time.
I forced a smile before I answered, knowing she’d hear it in my voice. “Hey.”
Except it wasn’t Kendra who responded. “You were with Brett.”
“What?” I’d heard what he said. I was just flabbergasted about having Scott Sebastian on the other end of my phone.
“I know you heard what I said.” His voice rumbled, a bit like he was scolding me. A bit like he was sharing a secret.
My skin sprouted goosebumps in response.
And because oh-my-freaking-god Scott Sebastian had called me. Which meant he was thinking about me. Like I was thinking about him.
Maybe not that much. I was thinking about him at an awful embarrassing level. He’d probably just had a fleeting thought about me, and on a whim, the way bored spoiled rich boys do, he searched out my phone number on a Saturday night and called me.
Yeah, even if he wasn’t thinking about me at embarrassing levels, it was enough to be meaningful.
I had to play this cool. “Hello to you, too, Scott.”
“Hello, Tessa.” Oh, the things it did to me when he said my name. “Tell me why you spent today with Brett.”
Scott had a power over me, one that I hated admitting to, but real nonetheless. He gave me a command, my body wanted to obey it. It was why I’d already lost two pairs of panties to the man.
I was also a fool. A practiced one. Ready to pounce on any hint that I might have power over him as well. “How do you know how I spent the day? Were you spying on me?”
“I have my ways.”
“Okay, well. You can use your ways to find the answer.” I’d been going for casual indifference, and I must have passed it off because he gave me what I wanted.
“Brett mentioned it tonight at this family thing. Someone’s birthday. Don’t ask who. I didn’t pay attention. Point is, there were too many nosy people around to probe him for more information, so I’m coming to you to get the answer.”
It was the perfect opportunity to tell him about the DRF. Explain the foundation, get him on board. At least I could warm up the conversation for Monday.
But my thighs still ached from wrapping around him the day before. My skin was tingling, my heart was pounding, and given the choice of talking business or flirting, I was very much interested in the latter.
“Why do you care?” I wanted to sound nonchalant, but I had a feeling it came across as eager.
“I think you know why.”
“I don’t think I do.”
A beat passed, and I worried I’d fucked up somehow. When he spoke again, his tone was more demanding. “Do I need to be concerned?”
“About Brett coming on to me?” I wanted him to be jealous about Brett, but I couldn’t believe he really was. Jealous over a Lesser? Over me?
Scott made a sound of annoyance. “You forget that I know Brett. He is too professional to make a move on a woman he’s doing business with.”
Either Scott was doubting what he knew, or he…
I suddenly saw this from his angle. He’d seen me get excited when I’d met “a Sebastian” at that party. He’d witnessed my lack of professionalism when I’d let him kiss me. When I’d fucked him in his office. Now he’d learned I’d spent the day with Brett. Why wouldn’t he think I’d be like that with this man too?
Even understanding, I was offended. And hurt. “So the person you’re potentially concerned with is me.”
“I know you want to stay on the right side of the ethics line…”
I gritted my teeth so I wouldn’t say something equally as shitty. “That is a problem I only seem to have with you.”
“That’s all I needed to know.”
“And you don’t need to worry about it being a problem in the future,” I added, his triumphant tone only adding fuel to my annoyance. Fuck him. Fuck me too for thinking there might be something between us, but mostly fuck him.
But then his voice fell low and serious. “It’s not out of my system, Tessa.”
“What’s not?”
“You. Not anywhere near.”
Whoa.
I had to work to keep breathing.
“Tell me you feel the same.” He was insistent. The natural urge to tell him whatever he wanted to hear bubbled up
inside of me.
Despite the urge, it was because it was the truth that I answered how I did. “I feel the same.”
“Good. We’re getting somewhere.”
I couldn’t begin to imagine where it was getting us.
Strike that. I could imagine it too well. I was very good at imagining scenarios of happily ever after with men like Scott Sebastian. Men who very much only wanted happily for the moment. Ten times out of ten, those kinds of fantasies got my heart broken.
I could not let myself imagine anything with Scott.
My self-warnings were interrupted by voices in his background.
“Where are you?” I asked.
“Still at the family thing.”
It definitely sounded like it could be a party. But there was one voice that was closer than the others. “Come on, Scott,” she said.
She. A familiar she. And it didn’t belong to anyone in the family, though she’d been at the last family party the Sebastians had thrown. “Is that Eden?”
The background noises grew muffled, as though he’d turned away for privacy. “Are you jealous?”
“No. I’m curious.”
“And jealous. You don’t have to hide that from me, Tessa. I like it.”
His gloating should have been a turnoff, but of course it wasn’t. It made me feel all dizzy and breathless and wanted, which was extra stupid considering he was with fucking Eden. “Why is Eden with you?”
“Now you see how I felt. Not fun, is it?” He was enjoying this way too much.
“See, but you forget that I’ve witnessed firsthand what kind of relationship you have with Eden.” I couldn’t believe I was giving him this much. Allowing myself to be this vulnerable.
“Brett brought her,” he said, taking pity on me. “They’re old friends. And no, I’m not going to touch her tonight, even if she begs. When she begs. Does that make you feel better?”
“I don’t know how it makes me feel,” I lied because there was no way I was admitting just how much better it made me feel.